Dramione Drabbles
by champagne for the pain
Summary: Except instead of being under 100 words, they're under 1,000. Short Dramione oneshots I've posted to AO3/Tumblr. Each chapter contains a summary, setting, word count, and rating.
1. Poor Harry

**Summary:** Harry was about two moans away from moving out of his own place.

 **Setting:** Post-Hogwarts, Harry's flat

 **Words:** 714

 **Rating:** M

* * *

Harry was about two moans away from moving out of his own place.

When Hermione had shown up on his doorstep a month ago in the middle of the night and told him she and Malfoy were together, he'd laughed so hard he cried. When she'd told him Malfoy had been disowned and now they needed a place to stay, he'd asked if she was trying to fill Fred's shoes in the comedic department. When she'd stepped to the side and pulled into view a very reluctant Malfoy, he'd told her this wasn't a funny joke anymore and the Imperious Curse was not to be used for pranks. When she'd thrust Draco's inheritance-ring-free hand in his face, he'd fainted.

By the time he came to, Hermione and Malfoy had taken up residence in one of the spare bedrooms in his flat.

Somehow, he and Malfoy hadn't killed each other yet. That somehow had a lot to do with the fact that Malfoy was never alone. Like, ever. He was constantly at Hermione's side, caressing her hips or kissing her neck, total PDA right in front of him. Harry would have thought he was simply trying to piss him off if Malfoy happened to even be aware Harry was in the room, but as it was, all he seemed to be aware of was his… Harry grimaced… _girlfriend_. Hermione was quite responsive to his touches, and in those moments, she too seemed to forget her best friend's existence.

If it wasn't bad enough Harry had to see the two being all mushy and disgusting during the day, he _heard_ them at night. He now knew more about what his best friend and arch nemesis liked in bed than he had ever desired to know. It didn't even matter if a silencing charm was cast; those two could not be quieted. It was repulsive.

" _Oh_!" Hermione gasped then keened, "Oh, yes, right there!"

Harry made a face and smashed his pillows even harder against his ears. Seriously? Had Hermione/Malfoy really needed to choose the room right next to his? The walls in this place were much too thin. He would have Flooed Ron, but somehow he doubted his ginger pal felt like hearing about his ex and the ferret _doing it_. And more than that, he wouldn't wish this on anyone.

"Unghh, Draco…"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. _You have work in the morning_ , he chanted to himself. _You have work in the morning, you have work in the morning, you have—_

"Fuck, Granger, you're so tight!"

Alright. That was enough.

Harry climbed out of bed, threw on his robe, and stormed downstairs. He was going to have _words_ with Lucius Malfoy. He didn't know if he planned on demanding the man un-disown his son, or that he give his ex-heir some money so he could get his _own fucking place_ for Hermione and himself, or what. At this point, he didn't give a damn what was said. He couldn't _live_ like this anymore!

When he reached his fireplace, he Flooed to Malfoy Manor and found himself in the family's pristine sitting room in the blink of an eye. Lucius and Narcissa were sitting on one of the couches, doing some reading before bed. Narcissa gasped at the surprise guest, but before she could speak, Harry broke down.

"Please take him back!" he cried, clasping his hands and appealing to Lucius. "Please! I know you're not happy he's dating a Muggle-born, but I _promise_ it is much harder on me than you! He's always touching her in front of me, and thanks to their," his face darkened, "nighttime activities, I have enough nightmare material to last a lifetime! I dealt with the Dark Lord for seven years and had less issues than I do now! So please, even if you don't want him back in your prejudiced family, _please_ just give him a few thousand galleons so he can buy his own flat and I never have to see or hear about their sex life ever again!"

Lucius and Narcissa only exchanged an amused look.

In the far corner of the room, where it was so dark Harry hadn't even noticed his presence, Blaise Zabini raised his tea cup and said, "Welcome to the club."


	2. Hermione's Hands

**Summary:** Draco loves every little thing about Hermione. Every little thing. And Blaise has to hear about it.

 **Setting:** Hogwarts, Slytherin dorms

 **Words:** 786

 **Rating:** M

* * *

Draco had never been the type to get all mushy over a girl. In the past, he and Theo had often made fun of their once respectable-ish male classmates who became total saps the moment they secured girlfriends. _No dignity, those lot_ , he'd thought. _Weak, pathetic fools._

And yet here he was at a quarter past five in the morning, fawning all over the size of his sleeping girlfriend's hands.

It really wasn't his fault. Every inch of Granger's body found a way to be attractive; who could blame him for being an attentive observer? Especially when she was naked and in his bed.

Actually, that probably said more about just how deep in he was than anything else could ever hope to: she was lying naked in his bed, her delicious curves pressed up against the smooth, toned muscles of his also naked form, and here he was, fully captivated by her _hands_.

Granger had wanted it rough tonight, and Draco, never one to deny a lady, had given her exactly that. They'd shagged each other senseless until they were both sated and exhausted in the best way, at which point Hermione had passed out on top of him, her wild curls spilling over the smooth expanse of her back and shoulders, her breasts rising and falling in time to the steady pattern of her breathing.

Something in Draco's heart had twitched. She looked so peaceful when she slept, so beautiful...

He was shifting her bare form to the empty expanse of mattress next to his, repositioning her to make sure she was comfortable, when the current objects of his fascination caught his eye.

Granger's hands had been interlocked with his for their last round. It had been quite the show: the gorgeous Muggle-born riding him for all he was worth, head thrown back in pure ecstasy, screaming his name as her fifth orgasm of the night rocked her body. When she'd collapsed, her grip had loosened, but she had not released his hands. He hadn't bothered to break the contact between his right hand and her left as he shifted her body, as the simple gesture felt quite pleasant and rather intimate. Only once she was snugly tucked into his side did he go to untwine their fingers and pull his bed covers up over the two of them…

And then he noticed.

Granger's hands were tiny. Of course he'd noticed before when they held hands, or when she was finishing him off after a particularly intense hands-on blowjob, but he'd never _noticed_ -noticed.

Intrigued, he gently unlaced their fingers and turned her hand over. With his index finger, he traced the faint lines etched into the surface of her palm. The skin there was so soft, so delicate. He turned her hand over again, ran his fingers along the back, over every knuckle and indentation.

Curiously, he pushed his fingers together and made hers into a mirror image. Then he held their hands up to each other, palm to palm.

Her fingertips reached his second knuckle.

That did it. He had to share this information with someone.

Tearing his eyes away from his girlfriend, he turned to his left and grabbed his cell phone off his bedside table. He went into his text messaging app and started to type...

(5:24 am) **_so blaise_**

A reply popped up before he'd even finished his thought.

(5:24 am) _oh salazar_

He ignored it and kept typing.

So, as it turned out, did Blaise.

(5:25 am) _it isn't even sunrise yet malfoy what the fuck is it now_

(5:25 am) **_granger fell asleep on me_**

(5:25 am) _congratulations_

(5:26 am) **_and i was repositioning her to make sure she was comfortable_**

(5:26 am) _how considerate of you_

(5:26 am) **_when i realized_**

(5:26 am) **_her hands are TINY_**

(5:26 am) **_like_**

(5:27 am) **_adorably tiny_**

To this, Blaise sent back a blank text. Draco paid it no mind and kept typing.

(5:27 am) **_so i held up one of my hands to one of her hands_**

(5:28 am) **_and her fingers_**

(5:28 am) **_they're so little_**

(5:28 am) **_she's so cute blaise_**

Several minutes went by, and had Draco not become re-consumed with doting over the size of his girlfriend's hands, he would have spammed his best mate with more texts. As it was, he forgot all about their conversation, let his phone drop to the floor, and snuggled Hermione close to his body. He pulled the covers up over them both and swiftly fell asleep, his witch tucked into his side, his fingers interlaced once more with hers.

Therefore, he didn't see Blaise's reply until morning.

(5:39 am) _i'm buying your father a cell phone for yule._


	3. Hermione's Shirt

**Summary:** Prompt from dailyau on Tumblr: "Wow um when I told you your shirt was inside out I didn't expect you to take it off and fix it right here in front of me excuse me while I pass out because of your hotness"

 **Setting:** Hogwarts, maybe during fourth or fifth year

 **Words:** 993

 **Rating:** T

* * *

"Leave Potter's bed in a hurry this morning, did you, Granger?"

Hermione whirled around and scowled in the direction of Malfoy's voice. Usually she could tolerate the blond's pathetic attempts at getting under her and her friends' skin (now if only Harry and Ron would follow suit…), but this was not her morning. Everyone had been staring at her for some unidentifiable reason, and she was bloody sick of it! That, combined with her anxiety over being late to her next class, meant she really wasn't in the mood to deal with the arrogant Slytherin's shenanigans right now.

When she caught sight of him in all his irritating, smirking glory, she was unsurprised to find Crabbe and Goyle flanking him. As always. His silent backup. She suppressed the urge to lash out as the three boys approached her now rigidly still form.

" _What_ did you just say, Malfoy?" she spat. She was fully aware people were slowing down around them to watch the oncoming confrontation.

Draco stopped only a few feet in front of her, donning his most condescending grin. "Wasn't very gentlemanly of him to let you leave looking such a mess. What about your reputation?"

Hermione felt her jaw slacken and her eyes turn into serpentine slits. Crabbe and Goyle snickered while a mixed group of third year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs very indiscreetly reacted nearby.

"As much as I appreciate your commentary on my appearance, _Ferret_ ," she hissed in a deadly low voice, stepping closer to the smug pure-blood before her, "you'll be thrilled to know I didn't deflower Harry. Brush up on _your_ manners and maybe you'll finally get the chance to do that yourself."

The tension in the hallway exploded. The Ravenpuff group was grinning and slapping each other and whooping and hollering; Crabbe's face turned red while Goyle's regular stupid expression morphed into uncertainty and fear; and Malfoy's delight was quickly replaced with fury.

Barely concealing a growl, he bored molten hatred into her amber eyes and replied, "Your shirt is inside out, Mudblood."

Hermione blinked and glanced down and - bugger. Her shirt _was_ inside out. That explained why everyone had been looking at her strangely all morning! She felt the urge to run off in humiliation and find a nice dark corridor in which she could fix this situation, but then -

It was like a ton of thoughts all whirled into one clear, concise voice, telling her what the plan was.

Running off after he'd used that slur against her was unacceptable. Running off because she realized she'd attacked him when, in his own awful way, he had actually been informing her of the problem no one, not even her friends, had been willing to tell her about for the past few hours was unacceptable, too. She needed to find a way to _win_ this altercation, a way to make him shut up. She recalled the only time she - or anyone besides his father - had succeeded in shutting Malfoy up had been in third year when she punched him in the face. Instead of hitting her back, he had walked away, she could only assume, because she was a girl.

And there it was.

Just because she was a _Mudblood_ didn't mean he didn't recognize she was a girl.

The switch flicked; she was no longer frozen, but in action, ready to put on her performance.

"Well, would you look at that," she said innocently, pretending to examine the offending article of clothing with great interest. "It is. Hold this, would you?" Swiftly, she swung her school bag off of her shoulder and shoved it into Malfoy's chest. He stumbled back a few steps and dumbly grasped the bag before scowling and passing it off to a bewildered Goyle.

"Granger, what do you think you're - ?"

"And this." Hermione removed her cloak and tossed it to Draco, as well. This time, he didn't pass the item to one of his cronies; he simply caught it and watched in dazed confusion the bushy-haired girl before him.

So, as it turned out, did everyone else in the hallway.

Locking eyes with Malfoy, Hermione gripped the hem of her school shirt and pulled it up, quickly lifting the garment up over her stomach, her breasts, until she had yanked the item over her head, bushy hair included.

The hallway gasped.

Hermione Granger was standing before them in her bra.

This detail didn't go unnoticed by her harasser, either: Malfoy's features were instantly flooded with vulnerability as his eyes unconsciously roamed her exposed upper body. Hermione was faintly aware of Crabbe making some sort of noise that signaled discomfort and Goyle dropping her bag as she turned the fabric inside out, her eyes focused on Malfoy's distracted ones. She tugged her right-side-out shirt over her head, smoothed it down over her curves, and fluffed her hair. She extracted her cloak from a limp-handed and dumbstruck Malfoy and slipped it on, as well. Last, she picked her bag up from the floor, gave the blond - whose mouth was currently moving wordlessly, and whose perfect pale skin was now tinged pink - her most genuine smile, and chirped, "Thanks, Malfoy!"

And then she turned on her heel and walked away at a leisurely pace that said she didn't care when she arrived at her next class.

The group of Ravenpuffs watched the three Slytherins in the middle of the corridor for a reaction. For a while it seemed they wouldn't get one, until finally, Goyle blinked twice and blurted, "Hermione's a girl?"

Draco closed his eyes and exhaled deeply through his nose, trying to conjure the image of McGonagall naked to scare off his awakening 'friend' - he had a bloody class in less than two minutes! "Come on…" he muttered, gripping the robes of each of his brainless followers and leading them all in the opposite direction of Granger and her tiny waist and goddess-worthy breasts.


End file.
